


Beauty in the Breakdown

by Tim (boywonder)



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-04
Updated: 2008-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-03 21:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywonder/pseuds/Tim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh god I can't write Ikkaku. D:<br/>Also, this takes place before the canon starts, but not that long before.<br/>Also, tense changes seem to happen in a few places, but I'm leaving them in there, because I like the way this ended up flowing. Eleventh Division sure is wacky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty in the Breakdown

Yumichika has always wanted to surround himself with that which is beautiful. He has a collection of beautiful clothing. He always has his hair done in the most flattering manner (though it's changed over the years). His uniform is never dirty, never wrinkled. His living space is clean, and arranged in the most stylish way he can come up with - although that, too, changes quite often. One wouldn't want to get behind on the times, after all.

There is one thing, however, that he considers to be the most beautiful thing in his life. Not a possession, no, or something he can even _always_ touch. But a constant, a presence, a comfort. In a sense. The thing that matters most. The thing that has always been there, and will always be there if things go as planned. The one that he could stand losing the prettiest number to, and the one he would stay with no matter what else happened.

That "thing" is, in fact, a person. That _person_ is Madarame Ikkaku.

Looking at him, he certainly does not appear to be _beautiful_. Especially not by Yumichika's somewhat ridiculously high standards. Ikkaku is not a pretty boy. He certainly isn't _ugly_, but he's a bit on the thin side. He doesn't have any hair, and isn't that a bit odd? He always has that _look_ in his eyes, too, like a wild animal. Hardly civilized at all. And he _certainly_ has never had a fashion sense.

But for Yumichika, that doesn't matter. When he thinks of Ikkaku as "beautiful," he isn't looking _at_ him. He's looking _inside_ him. It may be a rare thing, for someone that is always so focused on the superficial. But it works well enough.

Ikkaku is a fighter, and always has been. And isn't there beauty there, in that battle rage? In reckless abandon, in the fits of lunacy that accompany the way Ikkaku fights, someone so accustomed to battle can't deny that there is, indeed, something beautiful there. Yumichika has seen him fight countless times, and only seen him lose to one man - the man they both decided to follow from there to eternity. (Kenpachi is not beautiful at all, of course, but if Ikkaku sees fit to follow him, then Yumichika will do so as well, and without complaint.)

Covered in blood, Ikkaku is distinctly more beautiful. It might have been a bit twisted to some, but then, no one really ever _had_ had Yumichika's high standards. Of course, it's usually the blood of his enemies. But it could never be said that Madarame Ikkaku didn't know how to take a hit. He sure as hell did, and well. The more hits he took, the higher the battle lust would become, and the sweeter the victory.

The room they shared after a victorious battle was the most beautiful place in the world, as far as Yumichika was concerned. Clothes covered in blood strewn about the room, bloody handprints on the walls, a complete and total mess.

But also, complete and total proof that the battle has been won, and they have one more night together. Even the disorder, the urgency, the way one of them will cry out into the darkness, it all fits together as well as they themselves do. For people who spend all their lives in some endless struggle against whatever there is to struggle against, and for people who may not live to see that struggle for too much longer, the urgency may be all they have left anyway.

Yumichika wouldn't allow anything else, of course. He will tolerate no ugliness in his life. Even if Ikkaku's beauty comes from his battle-induced insanity, isn't that enough?

Considering the fact Yumichika is the _leading_ authority on what is and what is not beautiful, he is _certain_ that it is.

\---

Yumichika could smell the blood in the air the second Ikkaku burst into his room, and it sent shivers all through him. Even in the fading light that always accompanied dusk, he could see the madness still sparking in his companion's eyes as he stood there in the doorway.

At times like these, there was always a part of him that wanted to rush to the doorway and let Ikkaku do whatever he pleased. But he resisted the urge. There was nothing wrong with running, but that overeagerness would be rather _unbecoming_. And so, he waited for just a moment. It was long enough to make sure he could retain his composure for the _exact_ amount of time required.

He stood slowly and smiled softly. He didn't have to say anything, didn't have to ask what kind of success it was. Even when they hadn't been part of the Gotei 13, the maniacal grin on Ikkaku's face was answer enough. There was no such thing as defeat. The only defeat would be death, and even that wouldn't be such a bad thing as long as it was a death in battle. They both felt that way about death. It wasn't even really worth talking about.

Ikkaku met him halfway into the room. He jerked the other man roughly against him, and suddenly it was all lips and tongue and _teeth_. Yumichika could taste blood, and he wondered whose it was, exactly. Not that it mattered. Not that it _ever_ mattered.

Yumichika lost some of his composure when he felt his back hit the wall, and more of it when his clothes started to come off. By the time he felt Ikakku's callused fingers wrap around his cock, there was no thought of composure left. He heard something crash nearby as they practically fought their way toward the bed, but he was lost in the victory that Ikkaku had brought back to him and even _he_ couldn't be bothered to care.

It was over quickly. It was _always_ over quickly.

They lay together in Yumichika's bed, tangled in each other, panting. Ikkaku started raving about the battle, now that he'd gotten _that_ out of his system. Yumichika closed his eyes and listened, offering his normal commentary in all the right places. His voice was still breathless, and that somehow prompted another round of carnality.

This time, as they lay there, Yumichika could hear Ikkaku start to snore.

He laughed a little to himself and found the sheet to pull up over them.

_Beautiful._


End file.
